


Impulse II - Dinner

by JoansGlove



Series: Just Joan [2]
Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-23
Updated: 2016-01-23
Packaged: 2018-05-15 17:43:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5793877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoansGlove/pseuds/JoansGlove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joan's dalliance with The Butch continues</p>
            </blockquote>





	Impulse II - Dinner

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Joan_reads_Freakytits for her tongue in cheek christening of The Butch
> 
> And of course - thanks always to Duchess, my partner in smut who planted the germ of this fic in my dirty mind ;-P

Joan sipped her Armagnac with a faraway look in her eye. The meal had been full of thinly veiled innuendo and heavy flirting and she was feeling well disposed to whatever the rest of the evening may hold.  
Her handsome companion was resplendent in a 3-piece suit of soft grey tweed; the mauve highlights complementing her beautiful green eyes and providing the perfect field for her crisp white shirt held at the starched collar by a silk tie fashioned in an exaggerated Windsor knot and partnered by a matching eau-de-nil coloured pocket square.  
Joan liked a woman who knew how to dress, who wore her clothes with panache.

The Butch's short back and sides shone with oil; the well-defined side parting strikingly white, her long fringe swept behind her ear accentuating her masculine features. She played with the signet ring on her little finger.  
“Penny for them?” She grinned at Joan across the table and checked her watch. “We’ll have to get a wriggle on if we’re to make the boat.”  
Joan drained her glass, her ivory throat working as the fiery liquid coursed its way down into her stomach.  
“OK! Let’s do it!”

All eyes turned to watch the statuesque couple exit the restaurant; most assuming that Joan’s escort was a younger man, perhaps paid to be there. The more discerning clientele however, recognised her for what she was – an achingly handsome butch who was lucky enough to be spending time with a sleek goddess.

Outside on the street Joan took the proffered arm and they walked in a strangely tense silence towards the quayside, the warmth caught between them countering the slight chill in the air.  
The Butch mused on her good fortune. A dinner date with this exceptional creature was more than she could have hoped for. The meal had been exquisite torture; sitting so close to Joan but modesty permitting her to little more than stare longingly and occasionally touch her fingers across the table cloth. The swell of Joan’s breasts above the low neckline of her ruby dress had captivated her gaze far more than was decent and the way she moved her long, pale fingers had given rise to some wickedly delicious thoughts….she was so hot for this woman right now; she reached down to adjust her cock, strapped to her thigh and warm as blood.

The smell of the open water was in the air as she bundled Joan into a narrow alleyway, pressing her into a deep-set doorway, away from the casual eyes of passers-by.  
“Jesus Christ woman! You’ve driven me half mad with lust tonight!” Her hands encircled Joan’s slim waist, long thumbs stroking the soft, rounded belly.  
“You can’t wait till you get me somewhere a little more secluded?” Joan chuckled at The Butch's words.  
“This is secluded enough! Kiss me!” The Butch's hand snaked round her waist and pulled Joan hard against her as she filled the waiting mouth with hot, thrusting tongue.  
There was no hesitation in Joan’s response; her arms circled The Butch's neck pulling her deeper into the kiss, her skin prickled and her nipples stood to attention in the prison of her expensive silk lingerie as they rubbed against the inside of her dress; her cunt filled with liquid fire. This woman had an uncanny knack of firing up her senses and lowering her inhibitions.  
She slipped her shoe off and slid her knee up The Butch's muscular leg, stroking the long limb with her stockinged instep, luxuriating in the feel of rough wool against her naked inner thigh and The Butch's rasping tongue against her inner cheek.  
The Butch ran her strong, broad hand down Joan's side, curving round the swell of her arse as she ground her bound cock into Joan’s hot groin. Pressing harder against her The Butch dipped her fingers inside Joan’s low neckline, swallowing Joan's groan of pleasure as fingertips grazed hardened nipples, her lips sought out the strong pulse beneath Joan’s broad jaw and she sucked and chewed at the vibrating flesh as Joan purred her appreciation. 

The Butch thrilled as Joan’s hot body rubbed against hers, every nerve was alight with bright, burning desire for this astounding temptress, Joan’s throaty sighs encouraging her to go further, to push the boundary; her cunt tightened at the thought of taking her right here in the alleyway.  
A questing hand found its way under the heavy fabric of Joan’s skirts, fingers slipping under the soft elastic of her underwear, eagerly tracing the curve that led to sticky lips fringed with the softest hair. Joan gasped in pleasure as long fingers dabbled in her molten entrance and a feverish mouth sucked at her neck, sharp teeth nipping at the soft skin.

The Butch's fingers delved into Joan’s twitching opening and released a flood of creamy wetness that filled the hollow of her sex. She dropped to her haunches and pushed up Joan’s skirt to reveal pale thighs rising from dark silk stockings that disappeared into matching underwear. She placed her hot mouth over the silk-covered mound, her tongue moistening the slippery fabric, tracing the peak of Joan’s clit as it emerged between her thick outer lips. She heard her lover moan as the silk moulded to her cunt, her pungent juices seeping through the damp material as The Butch lapped at her.  
Joan felt her gusset pulled away, her hot sex briefly exposed to the cool, salty air before The Butch's burning mouth covered it again, her tongue probing deep into the exquisitely slippery furrows.

The long cock dug into The Butch's thigh as she crouched between Joan’s quivering legs. Her hand found its length and began to massage it, working it against her throbbing clit as she applied long, firm strokes to the delectable flesh in her mouth. Deep, dark musk filled her nose, her mouth, her senses; her tongue skated over the slick pleats of engorged labia, their softness contrasting with the rasp of her forceful licks.  
Lowering her knees to the floor The Butch undid her fly and reached inside to release the bindings on her cock, freeing it from its tight confines, milking it, rubbing the base into her aching slit.  
God she wanted this woman so badly! Her stiff clit jumped and sang as the stippled silicone pad rubbed against it causing her to falter as she ran the slippery underside of her hot tongue across Joan’s clitoral hood.  
Standing up, the cooling shaft filled the empty space between Joan’s damp thighs and tickled the wet fur that guarded her ruby treasure; The Butch stared at her lover’s face once again marvelling at her handsome beauty; Joan’s eyes were flashing black jewels in the flushed ivory of her strong face, her mouth was a soft, swollen crimson gate to her thick, agile tongue and dangerous teeth. 

They stood face to face, hot breath melding, their mouths connecting with bruising force.  
The knicker leg bisected Joan’s slit, elastic biting into the divide of her full labia, soaking up the musky wetness that coated her quim as the hot cock pressed deeply against the stretched lace margin, pushing it against Joan’s aching hole.  
Thrusting her hips against the Butch's Joan signalled her need; her hand dropped down between them, fingers curling around the underside of the realistic shaft and vibrating it against both of their pulsing clits.  
“Now! Do it now!” She reached under her skirt and pushed her wet knickers off her hips, grabbing the cock and manhandling it out of the way of the obstructive garment, pressing the head hard against the sopping entrance of her empty vagina.  
Their eyes locked as The Butch filled Joan. Mouths met, gasps and sighs flowing between them as hips ground against each other. Rough tweed scratched against Joan’s bare groin, heightening her excitement as she thrust herself forward, desperate to be totally filled by her lover. Her arms returned to cradle The Butch's head and neck, pulling her close as they united, glorious in their need for each other. 

The Butch’s hand slipped up Joan’s back, pulling her shoulders away from the sturdy door, unzipped her dress then released the clasp of her bra; Joan’s cleavage had drawn her gaze time and again during dinner and she was desperate to touch her; she pulled the crimson fabric off Joan's velvety white shoulders, freeing her arms and magnificent breasts from the sexy lace bra and bit her way down Joan’s neck and chest, lifting one heavy orb and sinking her angular face into its soft heat as she chewed on the taut tip.  
Joan burned with the illicit thrill of it all; the tawdry surroundings, the potential to be discovered at any time, the immediacy of The Butch's desire, her passion and need for Joan. She stepped out of her ruined underwear and raised her knee again, revelling in the heightened sensations of The Butch's trousered leg against her own tingling skin.

Her smooth thigh was gripped by her lover’s strong hand, her fingers sliding behind Joan’s knee to be quickly replaced by her jacketed arm as her thigh was pushed hard against her upper body, pinned there by the weight of the thrusting Butch.  
Her moans of pleasure deepened as The Butch began to rotate her hips, grinding the base of her cock against Joan’s scalding entrance; the stretched nerves firing signals to her pleasure centre, making her breathless and dizzy with euphoria. She didn’t care that they could be overheard, discovered at any moment.

Joan pulled the rough jacket open, struggling furiously with the tiny buttons of The Butch's waistcoat, desperate to get at her bare skin; she wrenched the perfectly pressed shirt open, buttons ricocheting off the surrounding brickwork, till she could press her naked breasts against her lover’s. Hot skin met, hearts thudding together as the two women clasped each other tightly in the midst of their consuming passion. Joan’s questing hand slid inside the well-cut jacket, palm gliding across defined muscle rippling beneath the smooth silk back panel of the rough waistcoat, her other gripping The Butch's arm through scratchy wool.  
“Choke me, Lee!” Her urgent demand was hissed between gritted teeth.  
The butch’s sweaty face broke into a grin; this woman’s tastes were rare and dark. “How hard?”  
“Hard!”  
Her leg was released as The Butch grabbed the back of Joan’s intricately woven knot; her strong fingers sliding through her glossy black hair as her other hand wrapped itself around her ivory throat, squeezing the hot, pulsing column, feeling the life-force flowing under her burning palm. Joan's breathing quickened as the restriction of blood and oxygen to her whirling brain heightened her sexual pleasure, becoming laboured as her hips gyrated with an increased urgency, responding to the crashing surge of lust that coursed through every inch of her.

She extended her long, stockinged leg till her bare foot encountered the rough brickwork of the alcove. She braced herself against it, slipping off her other shoe, planting its twin on the opposite side, sliding down the door, increasing the weight placed in The Butch's strong grip. Gasping desperately for air she grabbed The Butch's arse, encouraging her to fuck harder.  
The Butch shifted her stance to better accommodate this intoxicating woman that was wrapped, writhing around her; the straps of her harness strained against her tight arse as she fucked Joan to incoherence. Her clit ground deliciously on the base of her strap-on, building the sweet ache in her loins that swelled her inner lips to a painful ache and lubricated her needy slit with slick wetness. She felt lost in this exotic older woman.

Joan’s sticky clitoris jolted with exquisite pleasure each time the long cock and harness banged against it. She felt her tense muscles burn as her need continued to grow; her breath coming in sharp, rapid rasps Joan rode the thick rod sliding in and out of her slippery, swollen vagina, forcing her hips against her partner’s in a desperate rhythm as her face darkened and the world shrank around her and the soft, crashing darkness of climax began to fill her being.  
Her open mouth widened as the intense pleasure flooded her tense body, driving out hoarse cries of ecstasy from her dry, constricted throat, signalling to The Butch that Joan was teetering on the edge. The Butch redoubled her efforts. Releasing Joan’s hair her hand rushed to cup her gorgeous arse and pull her closer than ever before.  
The door began to rattle in its frame as their bodies slammed together.

Joan’s pelvis arched away from the noisy door with the initial crushing wave of orgasm. Every muscle in her body contracted in blissful spasm as spangled colours burst in the overwhelming darkness that engulfed her consciousness. Her hands clawed at The Butch as she worked her cunt on the divine dildo, riding her lover till she was left dazed and panting, hanging onto the broad shoulders of the woman that had brought her to this amazing plane.  
The bulbous tip still inside Joan, The Butch frantically jerked herself off, falling against Joan’s heaving chest as her knees buckled against the clenching of her cunt. She felt scalding wetness flood the swollen gash between her trembling thighs as she let out a series of shivering sighs. 

Tenderly they disengaged and began to dress, trembling hands and uncoordinated fingers fumbling at fastenings and smoothing rumpled fabric in between soft, affectionate kisses. The damage to The Butch's shirt was hidden by her natty waistcoat but her trousers were darkened at the fly. Shrugging off her jacket she carefully folded it over her arm and casually held it in front of her rangy body. She crooked her other arm and offered it to Joan. “Miss Ferguson…?”  
Smiling broadly, Joan pinned an errant curl in place and slipped her own through it, resting her hand on the firm wrist. “Mister Winter. Shall we…?” 

They stepped smartly out from the recess, a pair of soiled silk lace knickers left hanging from the doorknob.


End file.
